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He nods, seeming impressed. “That sounds awesome. Will you do my rehab?”
“I’d do your plan, but I’d pass it off to the trainer. I think her name is Audrina?” I notice he scrunches up his face, and I bring in my brows. “What? Do you not care for her? She seems nice and efficient.”
He sighs deeply. “Well, just so we’re crystal clear here, I hooked up with her like six months ago. Big mistake.”
Now I’m scrunching my face. “Really? Audrina the trainer?”
“Yeah, she’s a cool chick. But again, big mistake. I lost a really good friend. Which is her best friend, but even though I knew him before her, I didn’t know he was in love with her.”
“How did you discover he was in love with her?”
“When he found out we hooked up after a drunken night, he cussed me out and told me I was dead to him. She says it’s because he’s like a big brother to her and doesn’t want me to hurt her, but he never said anything like that. He just kept asking how I could sleep with her with how much she meant to him.”
“Oh my.”
“Yeah,” he says slowly, sighing hard. “Huge mistake. And she just told me to fuck myself last night when she tried to get me to hang out and I told her no.”
I blink. “She came on to you?”
He shrugs. “I guess, but I told her I didn’t want anything to do with her. And she told me to fuck myself, so I’m sure she’ll be excited to help me train.”
“That’s a lot,” I say, and he nods in agreement. “I’ll talk to Flex.”
“Okay.”
“For your sake, not mine. I don’t want you to be tempted,” I tease, and he gives me a dark look.
“Take it back.”
“Nope.”
“I’ll pull this truck over and tickle the shit out of you. Right between your thighs, with my tongue.”
I snort as heat flushes through me. “Is that supposed to make me take it back?” I challenge, and his face breaks into a grin. “Okay, fine. I take it back. I’ll talk to Flex for me because I don’t want to be jealous of you and her.”
“There is no me and her.” His face is so stricken over it, and I feel bad for teasing him, but I don’t think it’s the teasing but the memory of losing his friend.
“Have you tried talking to your friend?”
“Yeah, but he won’t talk to me. Ignores me at practice and won’t return any texts.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Eh, it is what it is.”
I know I shouldn’t because it doesn’t matter, but I say, “I didn’t think she’d be your type. She’s very thin.”
He nods. “Before you, I didn’t really have a type. I just liked women. Though, yeah, usually on the thicker side.” I watch as his jaw clenches. He looks over at me, such sorrow on his face. “Now, my type is you.” He sends me a cheeky grin, and I roll my eyes. “Are you mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” I ask, holding his gaze. “I’ve told you before, your past is just that—a past that didn’t include me.”
“I know, but I feel bad,” he laughs, shaking his head. “It’s weird. I don’t want you to think they matter, because no one has until you.”
“Dart, you don’t have to tell me that. I know.”
“Fine, but I still hate every guy who has touched you.”
I snort at that. He’s so silly, but I can’t bring myself to feel the way about his past that he does about mine. I don’t care because he isn’t with any of them; he’s with me. And like with me, for the guys I’ve been with, none of them has ever made me feel what he does. I have never been in love the way I am with him. I don’t give a shit about any guy or girl, because they aren’t us. Together. The women from his past didn’t do what I do, because at the end of the day, he is committed to me. He loves me. Only me.
“How many guys have you been with?”
“Nine,” I answer, and he nods slowly. “You make ten.”
“At night, I will curse them all, even if I don’t know their names.”
“You’re insane,” I accuse, and I stare at the side of his face. “Should I even ask how many you’ve been with?”
“Men? Zero,” he answers, giving me another cheeky grin, and I laugh, shaking my head. “Women, well…even though your judgy eyes tell me you think I’ve been with a lot, it’s actually only eighteen.”
“Only eighteen,” I tease, laughing. “But you’re right. I was ready to say almost one hundred.”
Now he laughs. “Jesus! You think I was a manwhore?” he jokes, and I grin at him.
“You weren’t?”
He shrugs. “Maybe a bit, because those are the girls I’ve slept with, not the total number of who have gotten me off.”
